Vanished in the Mountains

by Tanya Stowe

  His legs wavered slightly as he realized how close he’d come to dropping to the bottom. But the Lord had been merciful. Now if he could just get his engine running again...

  He ran to the back of the Jeep and pulled a hammer out of the toolbox. He pounded the plastic dash to break it open and release the airbag. After pulling it loose, he tossed the apparatus to the snow, climbed back in and put the key into the ignition.

  Please, Lord.

  The engine turned over. Laughing with relief, he shifted his four-wheel drive into Reverse and slowly gave it gas. The vehicle shifted but slid back into place. He sped up again. This time the car moved very little and mud flew back behind the Jeep.

  The wheels were spinning, not catching in the slick mud and snow. The Jeep needed traction to pull out of the ditch. He looked around. About ten feet away, a snag, a dead tree trunk, stuck its ragged edges up to the sky. Maybe he could get enough wood or bark off the trunk to give his wheels the gripping power they needed.

  Grabbing his shovel from the toolbox, he slogged his way through the snow and dug around the tree. The trunk was old and weathered enough that he could pull bark and strips of wood loose and carry them back to the Jeep. All the while, a ticking clock counted off the minutes in his head.

  Fifteen minutes from this location to his house. Another ten to break in. Benally and Carson were already at his house. How long could Dulcie hold out against them?

  He refused to let his mind answer the question. Instead, he stepped up his pace. At last he thought he had enough bark and wood beneath all four tires. He jumped behind the wheel and turned over the ignition. His Jeep lurched and climbed slowly out of the ditch. When its nose pulled out, he let out a shout of relief.

  But he still had to climb back up the hillside and over the rocky embankment. It wasn’t steep but the snow continued to fall as the temperature dropped. Even now the spots of solid ground he’d seen were covered with snow and probably icing over.

  Slowly but surely, he drove over his path of descent. He was aware of every second passing and the knowledge that if his Jeep slipped again, the ditch might not stop him. He could still slide over the edge of the cliff. He refused to let that thought take hold. Reversing over his trajectory took all of his concentration.

  He reached his last hurdle...the rocky edge of the road’s embankment. Moving even slower, he inched up. His tires hit the rocks and spun and spun. He released the sway bar and tried again. Finally, one rear wheel caught and climbed. He gunned the engine and pushed the transmission.

  “Come on, old girl. I know you can do it.”

  His murmured words seemed to work. One wheel climbed over the bottom rocks, giving him more traction. Slowly, rock by rock, he bumped upward. All four wheels eventually worked their way over the rugged incline until he struck gravel at the edge of the road.

  His back wheels spun again, kicking up mud and gravel but this time, his front wheels were on hard rock and pushed him. He angled the Jeep, hoping one rear tire would catch the asphalt and pull him completely off the muddy gravel. Metal screeched as the edge of the broken guardrail scraped along the side of his Jeep, but he didn’t change his angle. As the last wheel slid over the rocks and the vehicle banged downward, his back tire hit pavement.

  This time Austin let out a whoop as he pulled onto the highway. He grabbed his Stetson from the backseat where the airbag had knocked it, settled it in place then slammed the shifter into Drive. “Hang on, Dulcie! I’m coming!”

  * * *

  The numbness paralyzing Dulcie left in one long shiver. Her senses returned with an awareness of cold. She lay on the floor of the truck. Her hands were bound behind her. She had no coat. Carson and Benally had not bothered to cover her after they dumped her on the floor. They had the heater turned up but very little reached her. It all seemed to be coming out of the upper air vents. Shock began to wear off and her whole body trembled and shook with cold and fear.

  Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths and silently prayed.

  Help me, Lord. Strengthen me. I let these men take me without a word. I didn’t even cry out. I have to do something. No one else will come. Austin is dead.

  Pain washed through Dulcie. Kind, strong but sensitive Austin was gone. That thought made her want to cry out. Losing such a vital, wonderful man hurt her more than she could bear. She felt like screaming in protest. Maybe even yelling at God.

  Why did You let this happen? Why didn’t You take me instead? He is so worthy...so wonderful. The world needs men like him!

  She stifled a sob and let the tears fall. After a long while, her favorite scripture came to her.

  And that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory.

  She didn’t feel prepared for glory. She felt lost. Forgotten.

  Why did You bring this man into my life to open my heart and then allow him to be taken away? Austin was right. You don’t care.

  More tears streamed down her cheeks but her hands were tied. She couldn’t wipe them away, so she buried her face in the corner of the floorboard and silently cried.

  Drained and empty, she lay there, her face hidden, her hands tingling from the tight bonds and her heart broken. In the emptiness of her soul, Carson and Benally’s conversation drifted toward her.

  “We can’t transport all of them in this truck. The cops are probably lookin’ for it.”

  All of them? Did that mean they still had some of the kidnapped women under their control?

  “As soon as we get to Silverton, I’ll drop you off at the cabin and get us a new vehicle.”

  Were they taking her to one of the cabins belonging to Whitehorse? She’d left the locations of the cabins on that note hidden beneath the cushions of Austin’s couch.

  But Austin was dead. It would take days for anyone to find the note...if ever.

  “That chick Susan... Her broken arm will slow us down.”

  Susan was alive!

  Benally’s gravelly voice rumbled across the cab. “She won’t slow us down for long. We’ll get rid of her first chance we get.”

  Dulcie’s heart pounded. They were going to kill Susan.

  “Pierce won’t like it if we dump her here in his hometown. He likes the operation kept far away from him.”

  “He won’t have a choice. The operation is blown. He’ll have to find us a vehicle or he’ll be just as exposed as we are. He won’t want that, and I guarantee you, if I go down, he’ll go down with me.”

  Dulcie’s heart stopped. Pierce was the head of the organization. She’d just heard it with her own ears and it became the proof they needed. But what good was that? She was as dead as Austin. To be a witness, she had to live...had to escape. But how?

  Despair swept over her again. She felt bereft, abandoned.

  Lord, I could use some of the riches You speak of in Your words. I claim Your promise! Show me a way to save these women... Please... Austin gave his life for them. Let me do this for him.

  Fresh tears spilled out as Austin’s smiling image flashed in her mind.

  At that moment, the truck slid sideways. Carson cursed as Benally struggled with the wheel and they continued to slide. At last, the vehicle stopped and jerked back onto the asphalt.

  Carson cursed again. “The sooner we get off this road, the better.”

  “Relax. The cabin’s just a few miles ahead.”

  Carson’s grunt of disapproval was his only response, and Benally didn’t sound as confident as his words indicated. The storm had shaken both men...and maybe that was the answer.

  Maybe this storm was the hand of God disrupting these men’s plans. Perhaps their fear and struggles would give her an opportunity.

  Faith means believing when all else has failed.

  Senses that had been dulled by fear and hopelessness woke and tingled wi
th awareness. Please, Lord. Help my faith. Give me courage.

  The vehicle slid again and both men jerked. Benally cursed as he struggled with the wheel once more and Carson grasped the handhold above him while the other pressed against the dash. They tried to hide it, but both of these cruel, dangerous men were frightened. They had done horrible things—beaten people, kidnapped women, murdered one young girl and Austin—and yet, here they were, terrified by this storm.

  They were just as susceptible to the hand of God as she was...maybe more so because they didn’t know or have His promise to cling to. So why had she become paralyzed with fear when they walked in the door of Austin’s home?

  She didn’t know. Couldn’t remember. She only knew she believed the Lord’s promise now and she would watch and wait. Her moment was coming.

  Benally pulled off the highway onto a dirt road. Dulcie felt and heard the soft crunch of heavy snow as they drove over the thick snowdrifts on the side of the highway. They traveled into the depths of the silent white forest for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes.

  “At last,” Carson murmured.

  With her hands behind her back, Dulcie couldn’t rise enough to look out the windshield at what lay ahead of them, but Benally pulled the truck to a stop. Both men opened their car doors and a blast of frigid air flew inside, causing Dulcie to shiver.

  Benally disappeared. Carson opened the door, grabbed her feet and dragged her out. She stood on weak legs that wobbled and threatened to collapse. Carson didn’t give her a moment to gain her balance before he pulled her around the door into the full force of the wind. Snow like sharp pellets hit her face and snatched her breath. She turned her head away. Carson shoved her toward the cabin’s door. Light flared in the dark interior. She tripped on the porch steps. Carson caught her upright and pushed her forward. She stumbled into a cabin almost as cold as outside. Carson slammed the door behind him.

  To her left, Benally shoved wood into a freestanding iron stove. In the opposite corner, five women huddled beneath a single blanket. Dulcie’s breath caught. She couldn’t see clearly in the shadows, but she was fairly certain the woman in the center, cradling her arm against her, was Susan Yazzie. She recognized her from the photos she’d seen.

  Carson shoved her toward the women. A thin metal chain ran under the blanket and was attached to a hook in the wall. All the women skittered away as Carson came closer. Their blanket covering shifted. Dulcie realized that the chain ran through bands around each woman’s ankle, looped back and through the hook on the wall. A lock secured the chain ends together.

  Her captor shoved her toward the women. “Sit down.”

  The women made room for her, huddling closer together. All of them were thin, their hair matted with grease and dirt. A few had bruises on their faces. Susan’s arm was bent at an awkward angle, definitely broken. A dirty white tank top braced the arm and was tied around her neck. She looked uncomfortable and her features seemed permanently settled into a frown of pain.

  Susan had been missing for almost two months. Dulcie had no idea how long the other women had been captives. But they were all in bad shape. She started to speak but Susan shook her head in an almost imperceptible movement.

  Benally slammed the iron door of the stove closed. Flames appeared through the cracks of the old-fashioned potbellied stove and soon, heat drifted toward them. One woman groaned with relief and leaned toward it. She quickly squelched the sound and sent a sharp glance in the men’s direction, but neither one reacted. They seemed preoccupied.

  “I need to get on the road.” Benally’s damaged voice grated across the room. “Come with me to the truck and get their food. After I’m gone, you can let them loose and feed them.”

  Carson nodded and followed him out. As soon as the door closed behind them Susan whispered, “Is it really you, Ms. Parker? I wasn’t sure with your hair down like that. You look so different.”

  The thought of Austin and his words brought the hurt flooding to the surface again. She pinched her lips against the pain, then said, “I’ve been told that. But how do you know me? We’ve never met.”

  The young woman looked down, her features gripped in pain. “Judy talked about you all the time. Sometimes I waited in the car outside the clinic for her to finish her appointments. You always walked her and her mother to the door and stood there and waved. Like you were their friend. I always thought that was really nice. Judy deserved someone nice.”

  Dulcie gripped Susan’s free hand. “You were with her when she died, weren’t you?”

  Her features flicked to angry life. “She didn’t die. They murdered her. Her stepfather led us right to them. We never suspected he was a part of them. They paid him money. Cash for his own stepdaughter. She was so angry when she saw him take the wad of money, she ran at him. He said horrible things to her, called her names. She clawed his face and he pushed her off the cliff. Just pushed her off like she was a bag of trash or something. Benally and Carson were furious when Kutchner did that. Said he’d cost them money, so they wanted his payment back. Kutchner refused so they started fighting, throwing punches. I got shoved to the side and landed on a huge rock.” She lifted her arm slightly. “That’s how I got this. They beat Kutchner up and left him there, on the side of the mountain without a ride.” She shook her head. “They should have pushed him off too.”

  “He’s in jail, Susan. My friend Deputy Turner arrested him. His trial starts soon.”

  Susan sighed. “At least he’s off the streets. We knew they were lying low and hiding.” She nudged her chin to the door where Carson and Benally had exited. “Someone was going to take us away from here days ago but they refused to pick us up. They said it was too dangerous. After that, Benally and Carson moved us twice, from one cabin to another and now back here. We figured someone was looking for us. We hoped they would come...” Her words dropped off into empty silence.

  Dulcie looked at the other women. She didn’t recognize any of them. She would have thought at least one or two would have shown up in the police reports. Shaw had done a great job of keeping the reports stifled. Five women, from different places, with different looks: three brunettes, one blond and one redhead like Dulcie. All of them with varying ages. One looked as young as fifteen. Dulcie’s rage increased. “They’ve kept all of you like this for two months?”

  The women nodded. Susan spoke again. She seemed to be their spokeswoman. “We thought...hoped that all the moving meant the police were close. But now...” She stared at Dulcie. “Now that they’ve snatched you right off the streets, what hope do we have?”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t just snatched, Susan. I was investigating the disappearances and got too close. They came after to me to shut me up, but the sheriff’s department knows all about this ring. They...”

  The door opened. Benally walked in. All the girls stiffened. Frustrated, Dulcie stopped talking and turned to face the man. He carried a large case of water bottles with boxes stacked on top. He set them on the table then pulled a handgun out of his jacket.

  Dulcie shouldn’t have been surprised but she was. She knew they had a gun because they’d shot the lock out of Austin’s door. But when they’d taken her, they had not used a weapon. They didn’t need one. She’d just stood frozen while they bound her and dragged her away. She looked at the frightened, haggard girls sitting around her and promised herself that would not happen again.

  “Move back, girls.” Carson gestured them away from the ring on the wall. They scooted as far back as the chain would allow. He opened the lock and they slipped free of the chain. They moved apart and tried to stretch their limbs.

  Carson palmed his gun in one hand and with the other, lifted Dulcie to her feet and dragged her to the table where he placed the gun. Dulcie stared at it as he spun her around and slid a pocketknife between her hands. The zip tie slipped free. Blood rushed to her fingertips and immediately bur
ned. Sharp pains shot through her shoulders and she shrugged them, forcing cramped muscles to move.

  All the while, she kept her gaze on the gun. But she needn’t have bothered. With her hands and arms numb, she couldn’t grasp it even if Carson gave her the chance. But her moment would come. One way or another, she would set these girls free.

  Her captor punched a hole in the plastic wrapping around the water bottles and pulled the tops off the boxes of granola bars. He shoved them at Dulcie. “Hand these out.”

  She obeyed even though her hands could barely grasp the bottles and bars. When she finished, she sat down with her own bottle of water and a granola bar. She could hardly force the food down but she didn’t know when she might eat again and she needed her strength.

  When she finished, she massaged her wrists. Cuts from the ties hurt like crazy, but she continued to work her wrists, trying to restore all movement. She was the healthiest and probably the strongest of the captives. If they were going to make a move, it had to come from her and she promised herself she would be ready.

  Carson crossed to the cabinets, pulled a large old-fashioned transistor radio off the counter and returned to the table, where he placed the gun beside him once again. Then he began to fiddle with the radio’s dials. Static filled the air. It was just the sound Dulcie needed to cover her movement as she sidled closer to the table.

  * * *

  The roads were so slick, Austin slowed to a crawl. He’d lost track of time during his efforts to get back on the road and the storm had knocked out all cell reception. All he knew for sure was that Benally and Carson were ahead of him. He prayed his sturdy home, with its high windows and strong doors would keep them out, keep Dulcie safe until he could get there. He even prayed that the storm would get worse, prevent them from reaching her. But as he arrived at the turnoff to his drive, the tire tracks leading up the dirt road told him the two men had traveled over it. He pulled into his yard, stopping where their tracks ended, and stared at his wooden door as it swung back and forth in the wind. Snow was piled on the tile of his entryway.